


Got Better

by d_aia



Series: Similar, but Not the Same [1]
Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Clint, POV Clint Barton, POV Outsider, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint meets Parker's boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got Better

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the movie (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in it).This is the work of fanfiction. 
> 
> A/n: The next story doesn't have any connection to this one. Peter isn't underage. He is about 22-23. Also, I wrote this some time ago, so if you see a trigger that I need to warn for, don't hesitate to tell me about it.
> 
> Edit: Translation into Chinese by the awesome JX [here](http://luffysweetieursosexy.lofter.com/post/1d491e2c_d6b621f).

It was shaping up to be a nice day. Hot and lazy. Clint was perched on the fridge, eating pizza, and watching Stark enter the kitchen, all the while having a sass match with Jarvis.

“I'm here,” Clint announced.

Scaring Stark wasn’t amusing, it was bordering on cruel so he tried to avoid as much as possible. That was one huge disadvantage with staying at the Avengers Tower: on the one hand, everybody got that everybody else had issues, and on the other hand, there were some things one couldn’t do to colleagues with PTSD. That was a shame, but Clint was happy to respect some else's issues, if his own were respected in turn. It sometimes made living in the Tower a trickier balancing act than he was used to in the circus. All worth it, though.

Stark still jumped, but he relaxed pretty fast.

“Are you actually doing a rendition of the ‘early bird?’” Stark asked with his usual smirk. 

“Early bird gets the pizza,” Clint agreed. “Late bird gets his AI to order some, and still has coffee. Not too shabby.”

“There is always coffee where I am,” Stark huffed. “Coffee and good tech.”

Clint frowned, thinking it over. “The coffee at SHIELD is disgusting.”

“No rule against it.”

“I don’t think you should sound so happy about crappy coffee.” Clint made a disgusted face.

“What about the existence of it?” Stark asked wryly.

“I’ll give you that,” Clint admitted freely. “But I ask—”

“Sir, Mr. Parker is coming up,” interrupted Jarvis. “He is distressed and has something to share.”

Clint caught the worried glance Stark sent his way, before they both turned to the elevator. He knew Stark was feeling protective over Parker, and, most of the time, Clint found himself in the same boat. Yes, he was aware that Parker was almost twenty-three, and that he was more resistant than he looked. No, that knowledge did nothing for Clint, or Stark. Especially if Parker was in trouble.

Once the elevator reached their floor, Parker exited in full deer-in-the-headlights mode. Clint took one look at him, and he averted his eyes before he could start laughing. He was aware that Parker probably had something serious to share, but Clint was more likely to pay attention if he wasn’t staring at the spooked wildlife over there. The littlest dude had a pair of big—huge—brown eyes,  ridiculous, hedgehog hair, and clumsy limbs, he was not the most intimidated figure, but pretty much nailed the adorably rumpled. It made Clint want to help him, laugh, and possibly pat him on the head.

“I got a message,” Parker said breathlessly. “They want me to hand myself over to them, or they will torture and kill everybody I care about.”

Both Stark and Clint were silent for a whole second.

“Why do you believe them?” Clint asked.

At the same time Stark said, “That escalated quickly.”

*

That had been then, and now they had been on guard for two days. Basically, they only had Aunt May in Boston, Mary Jane, also in Boston, the Goblin, a long list of acquaintances, and themselves to look after. Stark had been the lucky devil who got the good-looking girl and the caring elder relative to protect. He had muttered about showing ‘him,’ Stark’s alma mater. Clint knew better than to investigate that further. The Goblin had gotten Nat, so Clint wouldn’t think too much about that either. The rest, were up to them.

But Clint had a feeling that Parker hadn’t told them everything. At first, it was gut thing. Then, he thought that there was more because of his developed ability, and experience, to read people. Now, he thought that Parker was hiding something because _he had eyes._ Parker was such bad liar that Clint was actually insulted.

“Okay, so, um…” Parker started and then trailed off.

Sam smiled encouragingly.  “Yes?” 

“I kind of… have… a boyfriend?” Parker swallowed.

“But you're not sure?” Clint asked a touch acerbically.

“No.”

Great, everybody was confused now.

“No, you're not sure, or no, he is your boyfriend?” Sam tried to muddle through.

“Hm?” Parker asked, distracted. He was looking at his phone, before he jumped, and got his head back in the game. “Yes, I have a boyfriend, and I haven’t heard from him in almost two days.”

Sam's smile looked a little forced. “Why didn’t we know about him?” he asked, pleasantly enough, certainly more pleasantly than Clint would have.

“Because he usually works in other countries.” Parker saw their doubtful expressions, and added, “He’s ex-Special Forces. They can’t—It's not possible to catch him if he doesn’t want to be caught.”

“Wait!” Clint warned. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Parker flinched.

Sam caught Clint’s idea. “An ex-Special Forces guy who works over seas…”

Parker mumbled something.

Just to be a dick, Clint put his hand behind his ear, and said, “You wanna say that louder for the deaf guy?”

Glaring, Parker shouted, _“He_ _’_ _s a mercenary!”_ He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “That’s another reason why I didn’t want to tell you. I'm not ashamed of him!” he said defensively. “He does what he wants, and I get to do what I want. It’s just that I didn’t feel like explaining my relationship to everybody who had an opinion.” Parker rolled his eyes.

Clint stayed silent, knowing that Parker hadn’t finished.

Parker smiled sheepishly, and at the same time protectively. “And he's been in… an accident. There was a fire, and he has scars… anyway, he's shy and not up to too much scrutiny.” He shrugged, managing to look both fond and defiant.

Sam lifter his arms, in an universal sign of I-don't-mean-any-harm. “Okay, but no matter how good this guy is, there is a possibility that he was taken.”

Parker didn’t look convinced.

*

In the end, it was Parker's boyfriend that they managed to capture. ‘They,’ being a sort of underling in charge of security at OSCORP and his goons. He wanted to have Parker studied, and claimed possession of him because: the spider that bit Parker was OSCORP property, and it happened in one of their facilities. The case was practically non-existent, which was probably why he resorted to threats and hostage taking, rather than a lawsuit. Didn’t make the guy any less pompous.

Clint, Rogers, Banner , Wilson, and Parker were at the docks, were the whole thing went down. Banner was waiting on the sidelines, while Wilson and Clint had taken over the high ground. Rogers and Parker were trying to negotiate. Clint wasn’t holding his breath.

“I have something I think you want back,” Mr. Black said. Yes, he mentioned his name, but Clint wasn’t in the mood to pay attention, so he was Mr. Black.

There was silence for a few moments, then Parker said, “Yes.” The ‘obviously,’ was left unsaid, but not unheard.

“You can’t have him!” Mr. Black announced gleefully.

If Clint didn’t have to keep his eyes on the target, he would have rolled his eyes _so hard_.

Mr. Black smirked. “Unless you give yourself in his place.”

“Can you be more dramatic?” the boyfriend asked. There was something oddly familiar about it… Clint shook his head. It wasn’t important.

“Would you, _please_ , shut up!” Mr. Black said. He actually showed an emotion that wasn’t smugness, and that was exasperation.

The boyfriend was at his feet, wearing a hoodie that did nothing to hide the scars, and jeans. He was sporting some attractive new accessories in the form of shiny strips of tape around his hands, and ankles, and elbows, and knees, and thighs, and shoulders—he looked like a mouthy worm. They had either been a little over-enthusiastic with the tape, or the boyfriend had been a problem. Judging by the curious lack of tape around his mouth, and the constant electrocution with the cattle prods the henchmen were wielding, Clint was going to give Parker props for almost being right. His boyfriend didn’t go down easily, in fact in some ways, he didn’t go down at all.

“Am I hearing a ‘pretty please?’” the boyfriend asked slyly.

“Yes!” Mr. Black yelled.

The boyfriend appeared to be thinking. “How pretty?”

Mr. Black clenched his jaw. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“Hah!” the boyfriend shouted and started laughing like a maniac. “No go.”

Mr. Black screamed and shot the docks. Twice. So, that happened.

“Let’s all calm down!” said Wilson urgently.

“I'm perfectly calm!” Mr. Black yelled.

“You don’t look it,” the boyfriend added, smug.

Another bullet hit the docks, this time closer to the boyfriend's head. The boyfriend cackled. It was Clint's professional opinion that the dude was suicidal and/or insane.

“There will be no exchange of people,” Rogers said somberly. “You will give us Mister…” Rogers trailed off, and since nobody offered up a name, presumably Mr. Black didn’t know, but Parker was suspiciously shuffling his feet. “You will hand over the hostage, unharmed.”

Mr. Black snorted. “Or?”

Good question.

“C’mon man, it’s done,” Wilson said, taking over. “It’s over. Do you really want to fight it off?”

Clint had a better question: what was he really trying to get in the first place? He only had one hostage. Even if he killed the boyfriend he'd still go to prison. This was the worst plan in the history of plans.

“I don’t need to get away,” Mr. Black replied sunnily. “I need you to know that I’m serious.”

“Wha-Why… Then what?” Parker said, stumbling over the words.

Mr. Black smiled humorlessly. “Then I'll go to prison, then out of it, and the next time I’ll ask for you, you'll come.”

The boyfriend is not the only insane one, good to know.

“Are you kidding me?!” Parker asked dumbstruck. “How are you so sure you’re going to survive prison for long enough to get out?”

That was what he was focusing on? It seemed like an odd thing to ask. But then again, maybe not because it was the only part of the plan that was left to change regardless of the resources. Urgh, sometimes the world was tiring. 

Apparently, Mr. Black's henchmen thought the same, they were slumped over, seemingly unconscious, like they feel asleep. What?! Either there were seriously low quality, such low quality that Clint didn’t even think it was possible to be, or something else was going on here.

“Guys, the henchmen are out,” Clint said into the comms.

Wilson's ‘what the fuck,’ face was hilarious.

Mr. Black smirked, smug, answering Parker’s question. “I will.”

“Dude, I  don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m supposed to do it anyway,” the boyfriend said regretfully. “ Here it is: you won’t like it if you do get out.”

“Is that a threat?” Mr. Black was not impressed.

“It’s a promise,” offered the boyfriend. “I'd offer you my pinkie, but I’m kind of tied up.”

Mr. Black rolled his eyes. Most of the others shared his incredulity. Not Parker though, Parker paled. He definitely was not telling them something.

“Say good-bye to your boyfriend Mr. Parker,” Mr. Black announced gleefully.

“Wait, no, don’t!” Parker shouted.

Mr. Black shot the boyfriend in the head, Clint let loose an arrow, and Rogers stepped forward. Wilson unfurled his wings, while Parker inhaled suddenly, and went down, unable to keep himself up. Poor kid. Wilson redirected his attention towards Parker, as did Banner. Mr. Black, arrow decorating his shoulder, gave one last heave to the body pushing it into water, and got taken down none to gently by Rogers.

Clint was right, this day _sucked_.

“Can somebody go check on the muscle?” Clint asked.

“I will,” Wilson said. He got within three feet, and added, surprised. “Guys, I think they’re dead.” He hurried over, and checked their pulse. “Yeah, they are dead.”

“Something’s not right,” Rogers said.

“What do you mean, it’s not right? Of course not, I shot his boyfriend!” Mr. Black was confused.

Join the club.

“Shut up,” the boyfriend snapped.

Apparently, it was hard to keep this guy down, bullet-in-the-brain, thrown-in-water-while-tied-up be damned.

“Wade!” Parker shouted.

No. No, scarred, mercenary, nobody-can-get, insane, impossible-to-kill Wade. Nope. Noh-oh. No.

“Who are you?” Mr. Black asked, as if insulted by the continued survival of the… _boyfriend_.

_Wade_ made a grand gesture of with his hands, apparently having gotten rid of the tape. It was too generous and he ended up going under. He swam up to the dock, and jumped on. Clapping his hands, he was on his feet in no time.

“I'm Deadpool, bitch,” Wade fucking Wilson said gleefully.

Shit. Mr. Black paled, Parker snorted, Rogers had his do-not-compute face on, Wilson—Falcon—made another hilarious face, and Banner sighed. Dead-motherfucking-pool giggled. Urgh! Why was Clint an Avenger again?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


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